Endurance
by Lyssie212
Summary: "Tasha…do you...do you know what it's like to fear death? To fear it…but…not your own?" "Clint?" "Do you?" "…Yes." Clintasha. Oneshot. Rated T because I'm paranoid.


**Didn't ever think I'd be writing Avengers stuff. Whaddya know? ;)**

**I'm part of an Avengers RP group on dA with a few of my friends, and I RP as Hawkeye. And I have completely fallen in love with Clintasha. 83 (Big fan of Jeremy Renner, too. x3) But anyway. This was inspired by that. Because RPs can be very emotionally stressing and beautiful.**

**...**

**It's true.**

**Also a HUGE thank you to Fishyicon for betaing for me! ^^  
**

**Enjoy!**

**Rating: T**

**Disclaimer: What do you mean I don't own Clint and Natasha? I _am_ Clint! ...Okay, so. Not really. ...Anyway.**

* * *

"_We'll make it through this. We always do."  
~Clint Barton, a.k.a. Hawkeye_

* * *

_Do you know what it is to fear death?_

He had come so close so many times. Kenya, Nicaragua, Moscow.

But he had never feared it. He had stared it in the face with a smile.

_To fear death…_

Back then he had no one left, no one to notice he would be gone.

No one to care.

Back then he was just a man with a knack for archery who had been picked up by a top-secret government organization.

…_but not your own?_

Then came Natasha Romanoff.

An assassin he was sent to kill. One with a ledger gushing red.

Already something they had in common.

But even with that blood red ledger, he could tell there was more to her.

Orders were disobeyed. She became one of them, and a close partnership was formed. But as weeks turned to months and months to years and mission assignments were completed (Beijing, Jerusalem, Budapest)…

…That partnership became something…more.

_Tell me, little bird, of this "one way trip."__And tell me that you did not feel freedom under my guidance._

Death.

The "one way trip."

Where hearing and breathing and feeling become practically non-existent and blackness shrouds one's vision. The feeling of floating, immobility, and nothing hurts anymore.

Too many times.

And under Loki's so called "guidance," that feeling was much like the sensation of death. But he could feel pain. Could see what was going on around him; he was floating, and he couldn't move, couldn't think.

Not of his own accord.

The Tesseract had forced its way into his mind, non-existent memories planted, the being controlling him like a puppet.

No. He did not feel freedom under that madman's guidance.

_Little bird, you know what it is to die. Brother, do you?__Does your Captain?__Your monster?__Your precious Agent Romanoff?_

_What- You leave her out of this!_

_Ahhh, I see.__The bird and the spider. How romantic._

The moment he saw her back at the tower, he nearly lost it.

So much had happened the past few months. Not unlike most of their assignments of course, they had had many close calls. But everything with Loki, especially their rescue mission…His perspective on things had changed.

So when he saw her, he grabbed her by the hand and practically dragged her to his room- wanting privacy from the others- and locked the door behind him. Once alone, he wrapped her tightly in his arms, assuring himself that she was fine, that she was alive, that she was _safe_.

Confused, she allowed him to hold her for a while, before she pulled away, anxious for answers.

"Clint? What's bothering you?"

He paused. "He just... He kept saying these things…"

"Who?" she asked, frowning.

"Loki. And I just…I don't know." He answered with a slight growl, pressing his forehead into the heels of his palms. "I didn't like them."

"Could you…tell me?"

He was silent. After a couple minutes of silence, Natasha figured he wasn't going to answer. She was about to stand up, leave him to his thoughts for a while, but his hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. He held her petite hands in his much larger ones, softly tracing all the lines and curves as he contemplated his next words.

"Tasha…do you…do you know what it's like to fear death? To fear it…but…not your own?"

Her eyebrows creased in confusion once again.

"Clint?"

"Do you?"

"…Yes."

_Little bird, little bird.__Your ledger is gushing again. All of this red . . . How could you possibly clear this all away?_

He cringed at the memory, the words ringing loudly in his head. He pressed his hands to his head in an attempt to ease the pain.

_So much red, little bird. So much red . . ._

Natasha tentatively placed a hand on the side of his face, her thumb rubbing soothingly over his worn and stubbly cheek.

"Hey," she called softly, bringing him out of his stupor. "You okay?"

He sighed, eyes slipping shut as he leaned into her touch.

"No." he whispered. "I'm not."

The woman was taken aback, and she paused for a moment. Her partner had never been this open with her.

At least…not when he had had a decent amount of sleep.

When she didn't respond, the archer opened his eyes and lifted them to meet her gaze. Both sets of eyes held so much raw emotion, a part of themselves they only allowed each other to see.

Gently, she pulled him close, a hand supporting his head and pressing him to her, her fingers stroking through his sandy blonde locks. He gripped her tightly, face pressed into the crook of her neck. Despite the situation, they both knew that sweet, meaningless words would do nothing to repair the emotional damage. They didn't work that way. But something simple and true just might.

"You'll be fine," she whispered into the silent room. "We'll be fine. We always are."

* * *

_Shots rang out around them as they dashed for cover, explosions rocking the earth beneath them and echoing into the dark Siberian night._

_"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Natasha hissed in his ear, panting, and glanced around the corner of their cover. Clint grabbed her shoulder and jerked her back quickly as a piece of rubble flew by right where her head had been._

_"What?" he said after a terse moment, a spark of humor in his voice. "You scared, newbie?"_

_She scowled. "Get over yourself, Barton. Of course not! I just-"_

_Abruptly, a shower of bullets sprayed against the wall. "GET DOWN!" Clint demanded, a hand forcing her to the ground, debris scattering around them. He positioned himself over her to protect her from any other wreckage that might fall, jaw clenched._

_When the firing ceased, he pulled away allowing her up, both brushing away the excess dust that now covered them. He glanced at her, concerned._

_"You okay?" he asked, worried._

_"Yeah, I…I'm fine." She said softly, her voice barely heard over the chaos going on around them. "Clint-"_

_"Hey." He said sternly, catching her attention. They caught each other's gaze, the dusty air thick with swirling emotions –worry, exhaustion, determination, fear- and a look was passed quickly between them. He flashed her a reassuring grin, tense and ready to head back into the action. __"We'll make it through this._

"_We always do."_

* * *

**Okay, so...yeah. Feels are flying everywhere. Babiesssss... :'(**

**Out of the cities I listed, the only one I know for sure a mission occurred in is Budapest, because they talk about it in the movie (haven't read the comics yet). The rest are just exotic cities that came to mind and I assumed they'd have had a mission there. xD And the flashback at the end was just a little extra thing to show that they've always been close, ever since the beginning. And even though Natasha had been an agent before, she was in a new organization, so I would imagine their ways of doing things would be different and she'd still be adjusting. (:**

**Thanks for reading!  
**

**Reviews would be nice. :)**


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